


Lavender Thoughts

by Almost_Fun_Drabbles



Series: Jolaster Series [1]
Category: Viewtiful Joe (Video Game)
Genre: All Game!character personalities are used, Also Blue's family's last name is Lumiere because of Wonder 101, Both Joe and Silvia are portrayed as mutually abusive/toxic to eachother, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Joe | Viewtiful Joe POV third person limited, Jr. exists but plays no major role in the story, Judy is reaccuring I swear, M/M, Multiple POV third person limited, Pining, Redemption Arc for both Joe and Silvia, Silvia and Joe's abusive relationship is addressed in a neutral view point, Slow Burn, Takes place after all games in the Viewtiful Joe Series, There may be a few ocs here and there to fill some roles I guess, They grow as people ok, Though it's implied that Silvia could be called 'worse', abuse and trauma, and yes I know the series kinda takes place in the early 2000s but I was a toddler, couldn't figure out how to fix the weird-ass spacing so sorry bout that, during that time so let me have this, eventual mutual pining, game!plot is used, graphic depictions of mental illness, hurt and eventual comfort, just not very, let them, mildly graphic depictions of violence, neither Joe nor Silvia are written off as the abuser, this is gonna be a long and difficult story so buckle the fuck up, trigger warning for abuse and trauma though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21694900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almost_Fun_Drabbles/pseuds/Almost_Fun_Drabbles
Summary: Silvia breaks up with Joe after finding out about his affairs. After getting kicked out by her, Joe stays a while with Alastor and tries to move on. But this process proves to be tough, as Joe is tormented not only by his own guilt, but the press's constant intrusion as well.
Relationships: Alastor/Joe | Viewtiful Joe
Series: Jolaster Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563850
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> geknrnrnvkdjn hmmmmmmmm I'm finally posting this thing wish me luck
> 
> I really doubt anyone that reads this will ask questions about how this fic is actually set up, but if anyone does want to ask me something, I'm totally free to answer in the comments!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured out how to fix the spacing y'all!

“I’m going out.”

Silvia laid sprawled out on the couch, clothed in a hoodie that hugged her body a few sizes too wide and an old pair of sweatpants. Lazy weekend day.

She grasped for the remote off the coffee table and turned the sound of the TV down, then rolled off her side and onto her stomach so she could see her boyfriend.

“Hm?” She didn’t catch what he’d said when the TV was that loud.

Joe stood at their apartment entrance, his hand gripped the doorknob and held the door half open and still. One of his coats were on. Silvia had inferred what he really said before he repeated it.

“I’m going out.”

“Why?” Silvia asked, but the question held the firmness of a command. She pushed herself up from her stretched out position on the couch and adjusted herself into a type of sitting one, crossed legs with her side pressed up against the backrest. Then, she let her head fall onto the couch backrest.

“I just need to, probably going to make a dinner stop or something.” he answered stiffly.

“That’s it, yea?”

Joe hesitated for a second before replying with a firm nod of his head. Stiff. He’s so stiff. That’s so common. Why was that so common?

Oh well. Silvia laid back down on the couch, mimicking the same position she’d lounged in before, turned the TV’s sound back up, and heard the front door shut behind her.

Usually, all of the good shows are supposed to be on when it’s Saturday, something to pass the time with, relax after a long week. But this was not ‘Usually’. Silvia didn’t find anything to watch at the current moment, and she wasn’t really up for investing herself in a new series on Netflix or something. She just wanted something to waste the hours, maybe usher a nap. She quietly hummed as she thought of a solution. To waste those hours, she reached into the hoodie’s pocket and retrieved her phone. She held it in front of her face, slightly raised, but stopped to stare at the black screen before instinctively turning it on.

In the reflection of her screen she could see the coffee table behind her head, along with Joe’s phone laid on top of it. It was an odd sight, Joe never left his phone laying around. She stuffed her own phone back into the hoodie’s pocket and turned over, reached out and grasped the other phone. She turned it on and was greeted with a lock screen picture of the two of them from a somewhat recent selfie together.

Silvia figured that it’d been a while since she’d last checked his phone. Too long, she thought. It wouldn’t be bad if she did it now, Joe’s not here, anyways. She typed in the usual password and was refused entry, and so she rolled her eyes and scoffed. Then she re-entered the old answer multiple times until the password’s hint on his phone appeared.

‘Who gave Captain Blue the scar over his left eye?’

What a moron, she thought, and typed up the answer in a heartbeat. Hulk Davidson. The phone blinked from the lockscreen to the homescreen, and she was greeted with an expected Captain Blue wallpaper. Silvia paused for a moment, stared at the homescreen. Joe talked about that damned franchise almost unendingly, anyone who’d been around him long enough would’ve had just about every fact about her father drilled into their heads. It’s like he was _begging_ for his phone to be opened, anyone who’d want a ticket in could probably just sit in the same room with him for an hour, probably even less, that idiot. She found herself smiling at her musings about her boyfriend, borderline ready to crack a chuckle. Her pose shifted to something more sprawled out, and her glasses were stuck crooked on her face with it squished against the cushions. Her arm that held the phone now hung off the couch’s armrest, and she tapped on his phone’s texting app, thinking it’d be a good start. The first few leftover conversations were normal enough, she didn’t even bother looking into those.

**Alastor**

If zombies aren’t real then wtf do huma…

**Silvia <3**

Remember to get some groceries!! 

**Shit Sis**

Dumbass just tell me the next time you...

**Goldie**

Hey, how’s it going?

So far so good, she thought. Everything’s in line, she thought. The rest of the page was just filled with previous contacts from their general group. She swiped back to the homescreen and lazily scrolled through page of apps after page of apps. Where next, right? That was, until the phone vibrated with a notification’s familiar buzz. The notif dropped down to show off that it was a text from an unrecognized number.

‘When are you going to answer me’ the text read.

Silvia’s breath was caught in a gasp as she jolted. She tapped the notif with speed fueled by her anger spike.

‘Joe?’

‘You said to text if I wanted to meet up again or whatever’

Silvia watched more texts appear on screen. There was a pause between each of them as they were typed, and they made each second staring at the screen build up more anger inside her.

‘Was last night a one time thing?’ the person sent.

That. piece. of shit.

That was Silvia’s last thought before she flipped onto her back and began frantically typing away a reply. 

And then the front door was hastily swung open before she could finish.

“Sorry I just came back for…” Joe’s here again.

“...my phone.:” and he saw what was in Silvia’s hands.

Tentious silence. 

And then her questions were rolling out like punches as she scrambled up from the couch and came after him. “What’s this? Here? Who’s this texting you? What did you do last night?!” She shoved his phone in his face and he pushed it away.

“Stop! Sil, chill! it’s-”

“It’s _what?!_ ” she spat, forcing her seething self into him. Her free hand balled into a tight fist, and her face was twisted into such a scowl. With every stomp forward, Joe stepped away, backing against the door.

And God, Joe was speechless. Mind blank. His chest was still without breath, too drowned in his crash to move besides being driven backwards by Silvia. He felt the bump as his shoulders collided with the wood of the door. Truly, Joe couldn’t even find the strength to lock eyes with his girlfriend.

Finally, he hissed in a breath. 

What the fuck can he tell her, though? What the hell could he say?! There was no format of lies, Joe was sure of it, that would allow him to worm himself out of this situation. “I...uh.. H..S-..” he had barely stuttered anything out, his gaze snapped down to the floor. He couldn’t tell what feeling crushed his chest like he was buried under a press, but it did nothing to help.

Joe didn’t look at her, but he imagined Silvia gritting her teeth as she harshly grunted at his poor attempt at answering.

And then came the blow. 

“You. goddamn. CHEATER!” She struck Joe with the phone gripped in her hand as hard as she could, right over his temple. The impact was so powerful that he keeled over, and she took the opportunity to continue to swing at him. With every cuff she berated him more and more. 

“Stop stop stop Silvia stop. Fuck- Please?!” he prattled as her insults melted into accusatory bawling, so filled with emotion that tears rolled over and down her cheeks. Joe didn’t want to, hell, _couldn’t_ make sense of her yelling. He protected himself the best he could, throwing an arm up and trying to keep her away as his other hand tried at the door. He swung it open and shoved it between them just when she latched her grip onto his arm.

“GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!!” Silvia shrieked at the top of her lungs, her nails dug deep into his arm as he forced himself free into the hallway. As one final attempt to hurt him, she rammed herself into the door, brutally crushing his arm in the doorway.

Joe let out a startled wail of pain and wrenched himself free at last, scrambling back from the door only to feel the wall slam against his back. Finally, his legs gave out. He fell down onto the floor, clutching his injured arm to his chest and curling into himself.

His breath stuttered out of rhythm as Silvia didn’t let up on the door, punching and screaming without a break in the assault. He stared down the door in fear as he cowered there, praying to whatever god there might be that a damn unlocked door would act as a proper barrier between them.

Gradually, the tremendously frightening onslaught of battering calmed. 

Silence sunk in, and Joe felt alone, there on the floor.

He stayed there, frozen while his heart raced on past the fight. Jagged breathing, stiff limbs and all. Something tense and jumpy rose in his throat as his stomach twisted like it was being spun on a whisk. Tears welled in his eyes. “No. Nono. Stop. Not here..Not..” he muttered to himself in circles like it would stop any of this.

His tightly furrowed brows twitched once and everything spilled over. Hyperventilating, he didn’t move an inch from that very spot, sans the trembling and sobbing uncontrollably. He burrowed his face into his knees like he could hide himself away, trying his absolute hardest to calm his breathing. “..PleasePleasePlease no- I-I’m sorryI’m s-sorrystop please...please...” A break, give me a break, please, he thought to himself.

His looping chorus of babbling to himself was cut short when the ear splitting sound of the door being slammed open rang out again. His gaze snapped up in shock.

His phone flew right over his head and buried itself in the wall with a gigantic _bang_. Joe had flinched back into himself the second he saw the blur fly by. When the door slammed shut again it felt like the whole building shook. Joe’s phone fell right into his lap.

Donning a newly shattered screen.

Joe sighed, and was grateful that he did. It was like a full body reset for the current situation. Sure, every part of himself swam and curled inside of him with nausea and worry...But, no matter, he guessed....

He felt like every inch of energy in his body had been sucked out of him. His legs trembled as he spent a while leaned against the wall for support.

All of the way, alone in the elevator, he felt the aftermath of panic well and settle in his gut. The subtle bumping he felt roll under his feet as each floor was passed on the way down was the only sense of a steady beat he’d felt in the last hour or so.

The walk to his car was hell. The sun was setting and it was cold, yeah, but not terribly. The terrible part was the unmistakable feeling of being horribly out of place. When he’d saddled himself up in the car, it felt much bigger than him, despite it being only _his_.

During the drive to the hotel, Joe debated just ending all by crashing or some shit. He felt _that_ embarrassed. _That_ sullied. That _furious_. Hell, that spiteful! How damn funny would it be if Silvia read the news tomorrow that her damn ex kicked the bucket in a crash!? He couldn’t deal with this right now, he thought. Feeling nothing at all would be a fucking miracle right now. 

Though, he recoiled from that suicide idea when he nearly rear ended the guy infront of him. His nose was smacked up against his steering wheel, and the damn pain decided to pulse over his injured eye and temple too.

Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Fuck _everything._ All of this swirled in Joe’s mind like a practiced mantra as he stomped up the stairs. His room keys dug as deep in his palm as his girlf-... _ex_ -girlfriend’s fake-ass nails in his arm. He was so damn muddled with all these emotions that he didn’t even look for the damn elevator back down there.

Joe didn’t notice that till he’d stomped all the way up to his floor. He mentally slapped himself for it. His room door was slammed open as quickly as possible, and he wasted no time kicking off his jeans and leaving them on the floor. His jacket joined it. Thank god the curtains were already closed.

He flopped onto the bed with so much fervor that nothing was left of him when the exhaustion overtook. The plush bed was so soft under Joe, it pushed all, especially the most terrible, thoughts into the back of his mind. He didn’t even pull the damn covers back. Any idea that tried to surface was shushed, all of his mind melting into low waves of groggy, slurred murmurs.

Finally, he let himself relax against the mattress, burying the uninjured side of his face into the pillows. Fuck yeah.. That was wonderful. Joe didn’t care if it was six o’clock pm or whatever. He needed a damn nap.

Stress tethered itself to him for as long as it could, but eventually, the weariness won, and Joe was lulled into a heavy, dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have anything special to say here besides, I hope you enjoy!

When Joe opened his eyes again, the jolts of pain that surged through his body scared him wide awake, but only for a moment.

He grumbled against the pillow squished to his face. What’s the time, anyway? Muscle memory surfaced, and he reached for the nightstand… that was _supposed_ to be in front of him.

Groggily, he lifted his head up to scowl in front of him. Realization hit him like a mallet on a gong. There was more mattress in front of him instead of the usual nightstand because he _wasn’t even in his own room_. Could he even call his old bedroom ‘his’ anymore? 

As much as his static-fuzzed mind beckoned him, made him just want to throw his head back down and pass out, he refused to just rot there. He rolled out of the bed, half conscious of the terrible bruising pain in his right arm. Damn it, that’s his dominant hand..

After a bit more struggling, Joe was finally up and reaching down for his pants. Still didn’t know the time, so he powered on his phone and…

Well, shit. It’s the next day, 9:23 am. He slept like a rock.

He scrolled there on his phone for a bit, just standing there and being relieved to have it back. Though, the angle at which he looked down at it, gave Joe the perfect view of the bloody puncture wounds forced into his arm. And damn, the bruise from the door was really dark. It hurt to move it.

“Right…” he said to himself. “Let’s see the damage…” With a sigh, he hobbled into the bathroom, had thrown the phone on his bed.

  
  


That’s a lotta damage.

If Joe’d never seen a shiner before, and only heard a verbal description of one. He would have definitely made the connection from what he was looking at in the mirror right now.

“Fuck…” He re-angled his head as he dragged his fingers across the bruises as lightly as possible. Every poke and prod made his face feel like it was on fire; it was so swollen and dark and sensitive. Hell, his sight was partly obscured by the swelling, why didn’t he notice that earlier?

The arm injuries weren’t looking much better than the head. He sat on the toilet as he examined them. Every twist of his wrist or stretch of his arm caused pain to loudly erupt under his skin. The nail punctures had scabbed over. Though, the scabs were so fresh and wet that they ripped back open with every movement. They were so deep, did he need stitches?

Joe sighed. Why should he even give a fuck?

He tossed himself back into bed right after that. Didn’t even care about the newly discovered blood stains smeared across the sheets. During the short walk to the bed he’d decided exactly what he was gonna do today: Fuck nothing. Not even gonna eat. God, the pit in his stomach was way too big for that. He thought his behavior was almost amusing as he threw the covers back and cuddled under them. What a lazy bum I am, right? he thought as he propped his phone up on one of the unused pillows.

He scrolled on a number of social media apps for hours, but couldn’t focus on anything at all. His mind replayed the break up in his head over and over again. What Silvia had said to him. 

...He let tears spill for real that time, _finally_ let himself cry, face hidden in the pillows.

...Oh well, no big deal, right..? He wasted the day away. That was the goal.

Joe tried to spend this Monday night sleeping just as heavily as he did the previous one. However, he wasn’t as lucky tonight.

Spending absolutely none of your energy and only getting up to go to the bathroom all day left him with the most horrible combination of feelings ever: Unstoppable jitteriness and unignorable hunger. They kept Joe up all night, but still he refused to get out of bed. His body felt weighed down like it was a stuffed sandbag.

And now his mind wasn’t just reliving the break up, it spun webs and webs of memories of her together. All he could do was stare helplessly at the ceiling as he saw Silvia, Silvia, Silvia. Hand holding and kissing and cuddling. Staying up all night talking and bickering over movies and morning coffee dates. Hell, the countless _adventures_ they had together as superheroes, as _movie stars_ . Every little thing he’d remember her saying, doing, interacting with, latched itself onto another memory of her, and then he’d just spiral down into it again. Definitions of _words_ hurt because he related them to her. 

Movie stars... Partners. Joe and Silvia were _partners_ for _years,_ and he just ruined that..

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he better? Why isn’t he better _now?_ Why did he think something so disgusting and temporary and.. He was so unfaithful. Why did he think it was worth it? What a stupid decision…

Joe spent the night tossing and turning until two in the morning. He was completely unable to forgive himself.

The only relief for sleep he found was humoring himself with the possibility that if he got on his knees and begged, she’d take him back.

Tuesday, Joe finally gave in on not starving himself. He walked down to the local convenience store, both because it was convenient, and because he was now _kinda_ scared of driving from what happened last night. The rather tall cashier at the shop was leaning over the counter, side-eyeing him, when he was loading up on snacks. They also weren’t subtle at all when they studied, horrified, at the obvious black eye and fucked up arm of his. Joe was surprised they didn’t ask him about it while they rang everything up. Slow day, anyway.

‘Fuck life!’ was the new motto of today. He reminded himself to buy a long sleeve shirt to cover his wounds later, and walked back to the hotel with a slouch.

Wednesday and Thursday were sorta eventful, he guessed. He drowned himself in movies and series on Netflix and Youtube until his phone battery gave out. There was no way in hell he was dropping by his-... _Silvia’s_ place for his stuff, not even his phone charger. Solution? He bought a new one. She obviously didn’t cancel his credit card if he could still swipe to pay for the hotel each night. He invested in that long-sleeve shirt too.

Two shirts, actually. The first one he bought was, how stupid of him: plain white. He bled through it in under an hour, so that resulted in making another trip back for a black one. He tossed what extra clothes he wasn’t wearing in the grocery bag he got from the day’s purchase.

Joe showered himself Thursday afternoon. Well, more like watered himself down. Despite the place being rather nice, there wasn’t any soap provided when he decided to clean himself off. 

Something’s better than nothing, right?

Wrong. Or at least Joe felt like _he_ was wrong. A shower without soap really didn’t give him an incentive to do anything, and he was damn tired of making store trips. Really, he just stood there under the burning hot water, mind running in circles once again over his mistakes. He questioned his entire life in there. 

Isn’t that lovely? Feeling so hopeless that you don’t even wanna leave the damn shower?

  
  


...On Friday, he’d had enough of the “recluse’s life,” and reached for his cell phone.

“Hey Dad.. Hey Minnie, it’s Joe... uh…” He turned over on his side in the bed, laying the phone beside him. “..I’m kinda goin’ through a rough patch right now, so… if you could call back, I’d really... _really,_ appreciate it. Love you guys...bye.”

_Click._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know I wanna say that I really really loved how the end of this chapter came out. The dialogue in this one impressed even myself!

The night air was fresh, and the cityscape’s lights twinkled lovelier than any star formation you’d find around here. Yellow, green, and red lights contrasted beautifully with the pitch black sky. The constant bustle of cars below the balcony was actually quite a welcoming sound, to her at least. It helped to still bubbling anxiety whenever it welled in her stomach, always here at the worst times.

This is a good cigarette, Goldie Lumiere thought to herself as she huffed out another plume of smoke. She leaned over the balcony fence and admired the scenery in silence. Something just felt… off to her, tonight.

She should’ve figured who rang when her phone buzzed against her thigh. She answered it immediately, and didn’t bother checking the contacter, tucking it under her ear as she took another drag.

“Goldie. What’s up?” The gray wisps escaped past her lips as she spoke.

She could recognize the voice immediately, because the voice was her own. Silvia was on the other end of the line, blubbering uncontrollably into the speaker.

“He-He-He, He…” She sniffed and broke out into a sob, cutting off her own sentence.

Goldie’s eyebrows furrowed in both worry and confusion. She tried to speak as calmly as possible to her sister, tilting her head into the phone like it would’ve helped to calm her, somewhat. “Alright, alright, Sil...please. Breathe, alright? C’mon..” The cigarette was put out on the balcony’s ledge, the head expertly ground into the cold metal.

She was answered with a series of dramatically loud inhales and exhales, sounded like Silvia was borderline hyperventilating over the phone. 

Goldie nodded, “Alright, good. Now...what’s wrong, Sis?”

“We-e-e broke-..” another sob, “W-WE BROKE UP, GOLDIE!” 

Goldie paused. 

...What?

She had to be hearing things.

...Joe and Silvia aren’t together anymore?

“...Ah,” Goldie thought to herself.

Silence over the line. 

And then, “...I-Is that all you have to say??” 

Shit, she said that out loud? Goldie adjusted her stance in a snap, standing up straight and leaning all of her weight on one leg. “W-What? No! I’m just..” Relieved, “...lost for words..” she lied, eyes subconsciously fixating on the blurry landscape of the night.

Little flashes of the scars that line Joe’s skin pervaded her mind, the remnants of arguments he relayed in suppressed tears to her surfaced. She’ll never let herself forget how heavily he flinches when someone raises their hand to him, or how easily he shuts down when someone yells.

Well, perhaps ‘lost for words’ _was_ an appropriate term. For, Goldie was lost for words that Silvia wanted to hear. If her break up was anything of the usual, Goldie would be at her side in an instant, comforting her over it. But... Goldie _knew_ that their relationship wasn’t normal… she was fully aware they weren’t _healthy_ together. 

“Uh..” Goldie began, “...How did it happen?”

She choked on a breathy gasp, it was a little softer. “C-can.. Can you just come see me? Please… I…-”

She cut her off, “Yeah, I’m coming. I’ll be there in a moment.” She didn’t let her say anything after that, hanging up promptly after the answer.

And so, with a heavy sigh, Goldie went inside to find her keys.

She pulled into the best parking spot she could find at this time with a stiff sigh. The entire drive there she tapped her nails against the steering wheel and bit her lip. Her stomach was turning just like before she was called, but it was different now, worse now. Her sister is an abuser, she was going to comfort an abuser. 

As much as Goldie wanted to stop for another smoke break, she didn’t want to waste the last of her pack before she even went through with the task. 

Ha, I’ll reward myself for comforting Silvia with a lil paper death stick, she thought as she walked through the nearest exit of the parking garage.

Through the lobby and into the elevator. Her mind was surprisingly blank in it. It was like she was mentally steeling herself for nothing. Even when she tried to focus on a subject that had _nothing_ to do with the situation, it still felt distant to her. Everything felt numb, and distant. 

The elevator’s bell rang. Goldie had reached her desired floor. 

The brisk walk down the hallway to Silvia’s apartment allowed Goldie to listen in as she went. Despite the complex being gorgeous, the walls weren’t _completely_ soundproof, and she could’ve figured how close she was from how loud Silvia’s crying was.

That is, if this was her first time visiting.

Her eyes locked with the obvious hole in the wall that sat across the hall from Silvia’s front door. That’s not good.

She approached the door and took a deep breath.

“...Silvia?” She asked as she knocked on the door, her other hand reached out to rest on the door knob. “...I’m here.”

 _“It’s unlocked…”_ came her sister’s muffled reply.

She opened the door, and was sitting next to Silvia in an instant, just like she should be.

Silvia relayed the story to her in snippets, cut up by her whines and squeally blubbering. “An-and then he came home! And..- And-” And then she started hyperventilating again. She slouched over on the couch and folded her legs up to her torso.

Goldie, like the opposite side of a coin, was quite relaxed on the couch there, beside her. Admittedly, she didn’t feel _as_ bad as she thought she should. She watched in empathetic despair as her sister cried, but the feeling rose up not from sorrow for her sister, but sorrow that she didn’t feel worse. 

She threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her into a hug, Silvia continued.

She was told that after Joe had arrived, Silvia had interrogated him about the person texting him on his phone. He had no explanation for it, so she concluded he cheated on her, and kicked him out. By the end of it, Silvia had cried herself out for now, and her words were understandable.

“How did you know he was cheating?”

“O-One of the texts said, ‘Was last night a one time thing?’”

“..Did you yell at him?”

“Yeah!..H-He’s...!” She took in a deep breath, furrowed her brows. “He’s disgusting!” she spat. She sounded void of regret, she sounded proud. 

Goldie didn’t say anything to counter that, but she had thought of something. 

‘He’s not, Silvia...’

The next question, Goldie was pensive about. Did she even want to know the answer? 

She didn’t want to, but she needed to.

She swallowed down the feeling, and leaned in closer to Silvia. “...Did...Did you hurt him?”

There was a bit of a pause before she answered. Silvia chuckled, “Yeah, I did.” Her gaze was met with her sister’s, but it was far and wistful. Grateful. 

Goldie watched her twin intently.

Silvia’s posture shifted, her eyes looked to the coffee table in front of them. Her legs fell back down and her feet planted themselves flat on the floor. She leaned her weight on her arm that she let press down on the couch cushion under her. “I hit him and grabbed his arm…but that’s it.” she replied with a small smile, amongst her pondering state. 

A beat of silence, and then she gasped quietly in realization. “Oh.. and I slammed his arm in the door. When he was finally out, he sat against the wall, so I threw his phone at him. He left after that.” 

Goldie stared at Silvia, eyes widening in horror as she attempted to process all that’d been said to her. How… how could she say all of that without shame? How-... She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Did she even realize what came out of her mouth?

She could hear Silvia’s breath inward, it felt so slow. The exhale was a sigh. “Really, I wish I would’ve done more to him. Teach him what’s what, yeah?” she joked.

“How can you even _say_ that!?”

“...What?”

Goldie grunted in both annoyance and frustration. She couldn’t take it any longer, couldn’t sit _still_ any longer. She rocketed up instantly, unintentionally stomping her feet on the ground and arching over her sister. “How can you just so proudly proclaim that you hurt him like that!?! Aren’t you at least a _little_ sorry?! Regretful!? At all!?”

Her sister was silent for a moment, taken aback by Goldie’s sudden outburst. “Oh!” Silvia finally snapped back, “So you don’t care that he _cheated_ on me!?”

“NO! It’s-” She slapped a hand to her forehead, drew the hand forward to comb back bangs that weren’t, and hadn’t been, there for years. “Do you think you’re innocent!? You don’t get to just act like a victim after how you treated him!”

“Uh- Yeah!? I _am_ innocent! He wasn’t loyal to me! He _hurt_ me when he cheated!” Her next complaint came after a breath, “A-All he cared about was his dick!”

And then Goldie snapped.

“YOU hurt HIM! You ALWAYS hurt him!” she yelled back at her. “Always! Always for years!- Fuck!” She couldn’t even stand close to Silvia, she stormed to the other side of the living room as proof of it. She needed a damn cigarette, wanted to just get back to her car and slam her face into her steering wheel until she forgot Silvia even _existed._

But she was in too deep, and turned back around to face her sister. She pointed at her accusingly, seething with rage. “That is _so_ bullshit! Nobody would _ever_ spend SEVEN years with _you,_ with your _sick,_ and _twisted,_ abusive ways, just for _SEX!_ We’ve known Joe since we were _kids!_ Our families have been intertwined since before we even existed, and you think your relationship with him only went as far as _SEX?_ Fuck you!”

Silvia was standing too, by now, yelling back just as loud and throwing her arms in the air. “Oh PLEASE! My entire _life_ with him has been spent trying to _fix_ absolute _garbage!_ And you’re just going to take his side when he decides to just go and fuck other women?!”

Goldie snarled and flounced up to her sister. She confronted her, causing Silvia to recoil. “I am _not_ defending his behavior. I’m saying that you two shouldn’t have even been together at all! You don’t DESERVE him. You know for a goddamned FACT that Joe cared more about you than you could even fathom, that’s the only reason why he didn’t fucking leave you in the dust! It has never, _ever,_ only been about sex. And you call all of this _fixing him!?”_ She counted it out on her fingers. “Obsessing over his mannerisms and insulting him for his hobbies and freaking out over his friendships with others, attacking him for his interests!? Hurting him and laughing about it!? You think violence and threats are _normal?_ ” She was getting so emotional over this, but she couldn’t care less. 

When Silvia had the guts to just stand tall in front of her sister like she wasn’t even fazed, if anything, _disgusted_ that she would suggest that her behavior was so horrible, Goldie shoved her back down into the couch.

She threw her arms in the air, her eyes crinkled as tears began to run down her cheeks. “YOU’RE FUCKING INSUFFERABLE! You treat him like he isn’t even human and then stare me down like I’m just insulting you?! I- God, just-” She inhaled deeply through her nose, “You wonder why Dad left- then you pull the same shit as Mom did years ago!”

Silence.

“...And _what_ is _that_ supposed to mean!?”

…

...How could someone, ever. Be. This. _Dense?!_

“AGH!” 

Goldie slapped her sister across the face, as hard as she could muster. She went right to leave after that.

“HEY!-” Silvia screamed at her as she watched her sister wrench the door open.

Goldie looked back at her, stared her in the eye like it would be the last time. “SORRY!” she yelled. “I’d prefer _not_ to talk to _absolute GARBAGE!_ ”

When Goldie slammed the door shut, it felt like the whole building shook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yeah, it'll be a while till it happens, but everyone does get a happy ending!


	4. Chapter 4

When Silvia had written up a post on social media about the breakup, the whole world blew up.

...Well.

At least, that’s what it _felt_ like, especially when you were a journalist employed to write gossip articles every other day or so.

News sources from all around had jumped at the opportunity to cover this spicy story hours within the fiasco rearing its head in the world. Her manager called her up, frazzled as all hell about it. She’d actually found the post herself when it happened, while she was scrolling on her own timeline. Information really does spread like wildfire these days, huh?

Her manager told her that it was her job to fan that flame, and to get to work writing something up for it.

Well! Whenever Judy Smith was assigned something, she was on the case! And this wasn’t going to be any old few paragraph briefing, she was sure of it. She’s going all out, no doubt! Step one of the procedure? Gather information.

With where she was right now (cozy-ed up in front of her computer), she couldn’t do very much. She supposed she take a look at what everyone else was thinking, right? The audience is important! The fans make the whole of it, yeah?

_It seems social media platforms everywhere are practically exploding with all the commotion. Fans are astonished, they’re devastated! Arguments are arising, rumors and theories are arising, discourse is sprouting up in every which way. The breakup of Hollywood’s favorite power couple has practically the whole of their fanbase in shambles!_

Of course, it’s just a work in progress, but she was really liking this first bit. 

Note to self: put a screenshot of Silvia’s post after this paragraph.

The next morning, Judy considered herself _at least_ double lucky when she’d popped in to a nearby cafe for a light breakfast. She waited patiently in line to order while her hands fiddled mindlessly with her cross-body purse. Her eyes fixated on the menu board above. As her nails scratched at tassels and jingled little metal ornaments, she was practically fantasizing about taking that first bite of her tiramisu cake. A coffee sounded nice, too, actually.

Though, as entertaining as the sounds from her purse were, rereading the cafe’s menu over and over again, was not. Eventually, Judy’s eyes started to wander as she waited in line. Through the building’s windows, she could see how lovely this morning was, just a few clouds floating past. She felt lucky she could tell at all, as the cafe was located right across the street from a park, allowing her view just the right amount of blue sky.

All of the people that sat at various booths and tables seemed relatively young and modern, minus a few stragglers. Adorable, there was an old married couple enjoying the morning together by one of the window booths. And- _Holy shit._

Holy shit. Holy shit. _Holy shit._

There. Right _there,_ alone, in that booth.

This? _This_ had to be double lucky. This was so, _definitely,_ double lucky, because settled down in the next window booth over was none other than the Midnight Thunderboy. Alastor, himself.

Judy’s stare of absolute shock might’ve bored right through him, that is, if he was paying attention at all. Unconsciously, she examined him like he was a specimen under a microscope. 

Alastor’s gaze was occupied by the world outside, just like Judy before. From the angle of his face, she couldn’t what he was looking at, though she imagined he found people watching quite interesting. Oh! And he had ordered something too, she realized. A cinnamon roll, and small drink, perhaps a coffee too? 

She felt that was worthy of note, something she had to remember.

Judy was hyper aware of her place in line now, waiting eagerly to order. When she had finally made it to the counter, she spoke her piece as speedily as she needed, and practically sped to the nearest table to sit and wait.

The entire process through, she kept at least one eye on him, and during this waiting period, she had both on him. She turned questions to ask him over and over in her head, listing them again and again, determined to remember. What do you think about this? How about that? Do you know this? Thoughts? Why? 

Why, why, why?

Soon as she heard her name called, Judy rushed right there, snatched up her order, and beelined to Alastor’s booth. She steeled herself right as she put her drink and cake on the table top, opting to place it gently and professionally, rather than slamming it down with the burning excitement that was budging so her earnestly.

She spat out the lines as quick as she could, intentionally ignoring how irked he looked by her sudden presence. “Hello there! My name is Judy Smith, and I’m a local journalist here in Hollywood, I wanted to know if you were up to answer a few questions?”

There was a brief moment of silence from Alastor. And then, he responded with a bite of his cinnamon roll and a wave of his hand. “No. No, please,” he started, mouth stuffed with the treat. He swallowed, covering his mouth with the same hand. “I’ve dealt with you guys before, I don’t interview.”

Judy, the stubborn type, sat down anyways. “No! Please? This won’t take long at all, I swear!” she pressed, reaching into her purse and retrieving a small notebook, pen included. She slapped it down on the table as Alastor continued to protest. This is going to be so good! she thought.

“I’m sorry, really. I don’t wanna be apart of this.” He started to stand, lifting and taking his order with him.

Her gaze snapped up to him as she clicked her pen ready, a hint of desperation in her tone. “It’s just your opinion about Joe and Silvia’s break up! Really!”

...That must of did it. Or, did _something,_ at least. The man stood frozen in place near the booth, totally stunned from what she could tell.

She saw his eyes physically _dilate_ , shifting excessively in size as he came to stare at her in bewilderment.

“E-Excuse me?” he said.

The reporter tilted her head to the side, only slightly, in curiosity. “...You… don’t know? ...About their break up?”

Alastor’s eyes widened as he watched her. If he would’ve said anything right now, Judy would’ve thought it to be ‘Are you kidding me?’. Instead, however, he threw the hand that held his drink in the air. “No I don’t know about ‘the break up’!” he snapped, spilling droplets of coffee on the table. “Why would I know that!? Why are you even asking me?!” he asked in a hotheaded stutter. Oof, sounded like he was about to grill her out of anger.

“Oh! Well! It’s all over social media, actually!” She started innocently, shuffling around in her purse and pulling out her phone to join the rest of the ensemble. She tapped the screen here and there as she chattered, trying to show off proof to her claim. “-Yep! Silvia made a post about it yesterday and- Oh hey, aren’t you on here?” asked Judy, pointing down at the screen.

“No I’m n-!” Alastor paused. Hissed out a breath. He’s, clearly, annoyed. “ _No._ I don’t care for social media, much.”

“Like- at all? Well I could fill you-”

“ _No!_ Nope! No!” Alastor harshly set his drink down on the table. He spilled a bit more of it on the wood again with that action. She watched the little beads fall onto the table top, forming into tiny puddles. “No, thank you. I’ll just leave.” he adamantly stated.

Judy watched bug eyed and clueless as the man promptly walked out of the building, swinging the door open vigorously and still crushing the cinnamon roll in his grip. Judy only blinked once, and decided, simply, not to pester him any more than that.

_Nobody can say just when the break up went down, as we can only go off of the one post by Silvia. From what’s been gathered so far, not even Joe’s best friend and fellow work partner, Alastor, has any information to share on the matter!_

But! Two days later must’ve been an opportunity of a lifetime for Judy!

See, on what was now today, a fashion show had been planned by Goldie Lumiere and the company she ran, y’know, _Goldie?_ As in, the daughter of _Blue_ Lumiere!? Both of them known as Silvia’s close family!? The show was hosted at an adorably stylish fitness studio just a few blocks away from her destination. Oh, and said destination? 

“Left! Left! Eddie, left right here!” Judy snapped in a screechy wail, her pointed finger tapping on the glass of the van’s windshield. Crumpled in that same fist was a short stack of paper, scrawled all over and flapping in the open window’s strong breeze.

As commanded, Eddie spun the steering wheel, and the van swerved into the next left on the road. Boxes flopped onto the ground and papers flew everywhere in the back, Judy heard it, but she was too invested in this to even look behind herself. The tires skidded loudly against the asphalt, and the entire van shook and swung as the vehicle centered itself on the lane again. 

“Y-Y’know-...” started Eddie, frantic and sweaty driver, coworker, and friend of the little reporter, “You coulda told me about that sooner, don’t need a ticket when I’m tryin’ to wheel your next big break!”

“Oh shush!”

“And would it kill you to sit down!?”

Eddie began to ramble on about his anxieties from her behavior when- Oh! That destination! Judy was right on her way to this hosh posh little restaurant a couple blocks from the showing. 

A couple blocks, yeah?

Yeah.

And! that fashion show had just ended. Amazingly, Mr. Lumiere had attended the show, and now he and his daughter were heading down to this particular restaurant for a meal together. Not only was that sweet, but it’s an opportunity. If she could just squeeze herself into that place...

“Yes it would kill me! RIGHT!-”

Eddie swung right and hissed through his clenched teeth. “You’re making this a lot more stressful than it needs to be, y’know!”

To that, Judy didn’t want to bother to answer, but muttered out a low ‘don’t care,’ anyways. She stared down the road like she was a cop in a heated car chase. She wasn’t going to let this chance slip through her fingers, and besides! This buildup is perfect to get her blood pumping. Enthusiasm is the key.

Before Judy knew it, she was pointing out that special place and being flung around inside the van with a scream. For, Eddie’s haste had caused him to parallel park with enough vigor that the little reporter was thrown out of her seat.

She recovered as quickly as she could, gathering up her strewn materials and smoothing down her skirt. Judy jolted up from the floor in a scamper.

Through the front window she could see plenty of other journalists trying to squeeze in there as well. Fuck! She knew she should’ve pestered Eddie more, should’ve made him come pick her up earlier. Fixing her hair as fast and delicately as possible, she stood up a little straighter to examine herself in the rear view mirror. With a final sigh, she thanked her driver and hopped off her ride.

By the time she’d stepped out onto the sidewalk and joined the camera flashing cluster at the doorway, she could make out exactly why there was such a dense crowd in the first place.

A gruff voice rang out over the cacophony. “Will you _please_ step back!? At least a little!?” Judy jumped right in, and was melded with the crowd in an instant at the sound.

“Hey hey hey!!” Judy’s words couldn't even break through the chattering of the others, getting lumped in with the mass's barrage of questions. “Wait! Mr. Lumiere?! Have you had any contact with your d-”

“Shut it!" Blue snapped, and the crowd did so, froze right up on the spot.

From where Judy stood now, she captured Blue at the perfect angle at the heart of the crowd. She thought it was so perfect, in fact, that she yanked a little camera out of her purse and snapped a picture.

Cover photo. Score!

Blue spoke in a clear and steady voice at the crowd, all the while keeping a protective arm up in front of Goldie. She stood behind her father, arms crossed and hunched anxiously into herself, as he went on.

“Really, I’m ashamed of all of you. Celebrities or not, this is _not_ the sort of situation you should be poking your nose into! If they wanted to talk about it, they would’ve.” He poked a particularly close reporter in the chest, ushering him to back off. “It’s obvious they’re in pain. Why not leave them alone?!”

Judy scrawled all of what he said in her notebook as fast as she could with a giddy smile. When she looked back up to ask another question, she was halted by the two Lumieres shoving past the crowd. The daring stragglers of the journalists chased after them to their respective rides. Though, it was to no avail, they couldn’t squeeze another word out of the two as they buckled up and booked it. The brisk departure left the crowd deflated, and they dissipated slowly, in little pairs.

Judy decided it’d be best for her to walk home. It wouldn’t be that bad, she wore flats today.

_And on Silvia’s side, neither of her family members refused to comment. “Celebrities or not, this is not the sort of situation you should be poking your nose into,” stated Blue Lumiere, Silvia’s father, who is known to share a close bond with her. It is unknown whether Silvia requested they not speak on the matter, or they truly are uninformed of the situation’s details._

A chipper voice rang through the speaker, the ‘L’ in ‘Black’ was trilled. “Bllllllack family household! Jasmine Black speaking.”

Judy tucked her cell under her ear and supported it with her shoulder. “Hello Miss Black!” She tossed her feet atop her desk, pencil and pad in hand. “Do you mind answering a few questions regarding Joe Black and Silvia Lumiere’s recent break up?”

A rather loud “WHAT?!” rang out through the phone. It made Judy flinch and pull the phone from her ear.

Jasmine scoffed, “You haven’t been _looking_ for him, have you?”

“Nope!” Judy answered. Her hand that held the pencil reached over and flipped open her laptop. Y’know, she could probably get a hold of Silvia on social media right now. “I did some digging, but with no luck, sadly,” she added.

“Well don’t!” said Jasmine, “My brother has enough going on right now. And he doesn’t need you goons chasing him around too!”

“Alrighty,” Judy answered. Ah yes, here’s Silvia’s account right _here_ . She clicked it, and, lucky her! Open direct messages! “Say, have _you_ had any contact with Joe?”

“I’m not gonna tell you anything!”

Judy huffed, not having it, but not in a place to argue. With her pencil occupied hand, she got to work typing up a little something to Silvia as well.

‘Hello Silvia! I’m a local journalist in Hollywood. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions regarding your recent break up with Joe Black?’

“Well then…” began the journalist, “...can you put your dad on the phone…?”

_Click._

“Um...Hello..?”

Silence over the line.

Damn.

Judy sighed once more, and turned her attention to the computer screen in front of her. She dropped her phone down on the desktop and typed up her first question.

‘What ushered this sudden break up between you two after all of these years?”

The message didn’t go through.

‘You have been blocked from following this recipient and viewing this recipients posts.’

_Fuck._

_Truly, it seems that nobody wants to say anything at the moment. As much as I’d love to go back and analyze our favorite (ex) couple’s past behavior and theorize, I think I’d rather leave that to you, the beloved fans._

Judy revised, edited, and finally, published the final piece with a heavy sigh. Slamming her forehead down on her desk, she felt totally, utterly, _wholly_ defeated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I don't care if I'm playing hot potato with the point of view, it's MY funeral and I choose who gets buried. Here's an Alastor chapter.
> 
> Also the story from the beginning is an excerpt from Burton Raffel's translation of Beowulf! Beowulf is one of the earliest recorded epics in Europe, and thought by some to even be the first! I really think that Alastor would take a lot of interest in human history and literature, and I thought Beowulf was a good blend of those two things! And uh, if it wasn't obvious, I don't own Beowulf or the translation I quoted.

_“-His misery leaped_

_The seas, was told and sung in all_

_Men's ears: how Grendel's hatred began,_

_How the monster relished his savage war_

_On the Danes, keeping the bloody feud_

_Alive, seeking no peace, offering_

_No truce, accepting no settlement, no price_

_In gold or land, and paying the living_

_For one crime only with another. No one_

_Waited for reparation from his plundering claws:_

_That shadow of death hunted in the darkness,_

_Stalked Hrothgar's warriors, old_

_And young, lying in waiting, hidden_

_In mist, invisibly following them from the edge_

_Of the marsh, always there, unseen._

_So mankind's enemy continued his crimes,_

_Killing as often as he could, coming_

_Alone, bloodthirsty and horrible. Though he lived_

_In Herot, when the night hid him, he never_

_Dared to touch king Hrothgar's glorious_

_Throne, protected by God—God,_

_Whose love Grendel could not know._

_But Hrothgar's Heart was bent. The best and most noble_

_Of his council debated-”_

Alastor’s phone buzzed once under him, ripping him from his reading induced focus. It buzzed again and he grumbled in turn, adjusting his posture on the couch. His wings jostled as he did so, finding a place for them was found to be difficult at times. He shoved a hand under himself and dug his phone out of his back pocket, tossing it on the armrest his book laid open on. Without averting his eyes from the text, he answered the call and set it to speaker phone.

“Hello?” he said to the phone as he, unwillingly, read the same line of text over and over. 

“Hey Al…” The voice that answered him sounded incredibly exasperated, a little disinterested as well. Oh! But even still, Alastor recognized who it was with a small smile, regarding him with fondness.

He snapped the book shut and tossed it to the coffee table beside him. Then, he promptly took the cell off speaker phone and tucked it under his ear. Undivided attention for him.

“Hey Joe,” Alastor answered, though, with a little hesitance, he figured that Joe was still reeling over whatever the hell that journalist was going on about. “What’s up?”

Alastor heard Joe respond with a deflated huff over the line. “Didja hear?” he asked.

“Uh…” Alastor clicked his tongue, furrowed his brows. He’s talking about the break up... right? “...Yes..?” he guessed.

Another sigh, “Did Silvia tell you?”

Alastor let out a little exhale in relief. Nice, he was right. “No, the press came after me.”

There was a brief pause before Joe spoke again, like he was trying to process what Alastor had just told him. And then, “...What?”

“Oh yeah,” Alastor went on, he stretched out on the couch to relax a little, letting a leg hang off onto the floor. “This chatty, short girl tried me for an interview when I was trying to enjoy a cinnamon roll. You know how annoying it is when they just start bothering you like that?”

“Okay yeah, but go back-”

“She wanted to know what _I_ know about you two. But I didn’t even know you two broke up until she told me. So, I ended up leaving since she wouldn’t stop.”

“You… didn’t know about all this?” Alastor then added.

There was quiet over the line, but Alastor could easily infer what was happening on the other end. He could hear the steady, quick tapping of fingers on a screen while he waited for a reply. Joe must’ve been looking into it, searching for news articles over them.

After a moment longer of more quiet reading, Joe finally said something. _Said_ something was a muttered “What the fuck…”

Alastor let out a noise, something between a sigh and a hum of sympathy. He took the cell from his ear and laid it flat on his chest, switching it back to speaker phone, “No one’s said anything, if it helps any.”

“Our friends, I mean…” he went on, “...Not the press.”

Hm, and Alastor could just imagine it now, article after article about their break up listed in the search bar. There was probably speculations of abuse and affairs, interviews from everyone possible, social media analyzations, you name it.

He knows that Joe would take it horribly, beat himself up over it. Alastor knew that he _was_ beating himself up over it.

From what Alastor could tell, his friend kept scrolling and scrolling, muttering and cursing and feeling overall ashamed, leaving the demon to his own thoughts. A part of him wanted to just pull Joe away from all of this, tell him to stop looking at his phone screen, tell him to forget Silvia, stop thinking about it, it’s not worth it. Or, to just _breathe_ , or _something_ . Just not _this_ , Alastor doesn’t like this.

At one point, Joe started reading aloud scraps of articles to himself. Alastor couldn’t make out what he was saying, but registered his presence through his voice.

For a brief moment, he wondered about the difference of Joe being here in person. What if his voice didn’t surface from the little cell phone on his chest, but instead from the man himself? For sure, his mind deduced, Joe would have to be snuggled on top of him for the same effect.

...That was a wonderful thought to Alastor. A thought he silently indulged himself with while in waiting. He lazily dragged his fingertips up and down his chest like he was caressing Joe’s back with a soft sigh.

He blinked out of his little trance as he heard the man in thought speak again, asking, “...What do you know?” 

If Alastor found it necessary, he would’ve shrugged, but instead he laid perfectly still as he spoke. “That you guys aren’t together anymore.” he answered.

Joe doesn’t say anything to that, and so he kept talking. “Hey, uh… where are you right now?” 

“Hotel…” he muttered, certainly glum. There was a long pause between, like Joe was debating something, and then, “I was... actually calling to ask if I could bunk there with you for a while?”

“Yes!” Alastor said. And then he mentally cursed himself, because he said that immediately and enthusiastically, which could be read as creepy. Alastor did not want to be thought of as creepy, especially not by Joe. He cleared his throat, “ _fuck_ \- uh… yea, I don’t mind.”

He hears Joe sigh in relief at that. “Thanks dude,” he said to him, and Alastor sighed too.

There was a calm beat in the conversation, as Alastor felt satisfied, but didn’t see a reason to hang up. Joe’s next question seemed even more hesitant than the last one, uselessly so, “...Is there, like… a certain time you want me over?”

“Uh…” Alastor sat up and peered over the couch’s backrest, the phone falling down and onto the cushion under him. From his spot, he saw that his apartment resembled itself in its most common form: tidy, minimalistic, and purple themed. Also known as perfect, obviously. The next step was sitting himself back down and examining his attire. He did so, and observed that his outfit consisted of a plain white t-shirt and a comfy pair of sweatpants. Perfectly casual. Alastor silently punched his fist in the air in victory.

He’s fucking rockin’ it.

“Right now seems fine!” he said in the phone’s general direction.

“Now?”

“Now,” Alastor replied confidently, plucking the phone off the couch.

“Alright.”

“See you then?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

And then Joe hung up.

And, okay, Alastor needed a moment, and he took that moment staring at the floor, attempting to process what just happened. He reran the conversation in his head, once, twice halfway, eyebrows furrowed. Joe’s coming to live with him, and... holy shit.

  
  


He dashed and dove onto his bed face first like a giddy child, his happiness surfacing all at once. The mounds of sheets and pillows flopped up like ripples of water around him as he kicked and scooted to adjust himself on his bed. He’d finally managed to flop onto his back, snatching up a pillow and stuffing it over his face.

He screamed into it, then promptly ripped it off and tossed it to the side of him. 

Then, like a sigh of relief, he let quiet fill the air after that, his attention slowly drifting to the light fixture above him. His line of sight panned out, and traced constellations on the ceiling, drawn from the plaster speckles that adorned it.

Ah fuck, he knows all about those dumb lovey-dovey tropes. He cursed himself when he let a dorky smile grow on his face. His life’s a damn romance novel.

He turned over onto his stomach. He needed to talk about this, to tell someone. And luckily, he’d been smart enough to throw his phone on the bed with him, and spent the next moment feeling and gripping around for it. Once it was found, he wasted no time stuffing one side of his face into a stray pillow and dropping the device right beside him.

He got a hold of Rachel as quickly as he could, and she picked up immediately.

“Rachel spea-”

“Rachel you’re not gonna believe what just happened,” Alastor spat out as fast as he could, eager to cut to the chase. 

And so she asked him, “What will I not believe?”

He had to hiss in a breath, like he wanted to share his anticipation with her. “Okay so- Did you hear about Joe and Silvia’s break up?”

“Yes, I’m buying flowers for Silvia now.”

What? “W-...Why?” He asked, taken aback.

“I want to make her feel better,” Rachel adamantly stated.

Ah, the realization dawned on him like a light bulb switching on over his head. “Oh!” he said, “Yeah, you like her.”

“Yes. Now, what will I not believe?”

Alastor had to bury his face deeper against the pillow to muffle his bubbling excitement. He inhaled. “Joe’s going to be staying with me until he finds a new place because Silvia kicked him out.”

Rachel only giggled, and Alastor found the sound awfully sweet. “I could have guessed that,” she said. “Do you think something will happen between you and him?”

“Yes! I mean, maybe? ...I want something to.”

He could practically hear the smile in her voice, but what was most apparent was the concern in her tone, “You won’t manipulate him, will you?”

And then Alastor dead panned. He’d never even thought of that. 

...Joe had just gotten out of a relationship no more than a few weeks ago, he can’t be thinking about… _‘them.’_ That’s selfish! He was sure of it. Joe was probably going through a lot right now. Human emotion and loss of partnership and grief, all that. Complicated stuff, especially in Alastor’s experience. Though, before he could just get lost in thinking about how he absolutely _should not_ be attracted to Joe right now, he retorted.

“No! I don’t want to manipulate him!”

To which Rachel pointed out, “He’s going to be vulnerable, Alastor. He might push himself to be with you because he misses having a relationship.”

Other people in general, or him specifically? He wondered.

“But I don’t want him to do that!” he complained, “I want him to be with me because he loves me.”

With how nonchalantly she spoke to him about this, he could easily imagine Rachel just shrugging with every reply she gave him. “Then don’t act interested, just be his friend,” she said.

“But what if he makes the ‘first move’?” Alastor proposed.

“Turn him down.”

What!? How can she say that so simply!? Turn him down forever? Or for a while? Turn him down for how long?

“But I don’t want to!” he snapped. And, just after he said that, he felt incredibly dumb. 

So, Alastor huffed and shoved his face deeper into the pillow. He groaned in frustration, then lifted his head back up. “Ugh, You know what I mean.” 

“I do. You want to make Joe happy.”

“Yes! I do! And I- just-...” His face collided with the pillow once more, muffling the end of his sentence. “...wanna kiss his dumb face.”

“That too.” Rachel added.

He let his face flop to the side, free from the pillow’s smothering, so his words would be properly coherent again. Though, once the deed was done, he felt like he had no energy left.

“I want him to love me back,” he settled for mumbling, wistfully so. “This could be my big break, Rachel.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t care about him. Why don’t you use this time to be close to him in general?

...Hm. That did sound like a nice idea, as Alastor appreciated Joe’s company regardless of the circumstances behind it. He didn’t need to turn thought over in his head for long, and he agreed with a nod, “Yeah, you’re right. This isn’t about me. It’s about Joe. I need to put my feelings aside for him.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Alright, uh… thanks Rachel.”

“Of course, wish me luck with Silvia?”

“Hey wait! You’re gonna do the waiting thing too, right?”

“Yes I will follow my own advice.” She confirmed.

“But why the flowe-”

Rachel interrupted him with her own words. “To make her feel better,” she stated.

“...Rachel. That’s romantic.”

There was a brief moment of silence over the line.

“What do I bring her.” Rachel asked. Though, it sounded more like a command.

A command, to which, Alastor shrugged at. 

The action was followed by no reply from the android, but eventually, she did say something.

“...Are you going to answ-”

“Oh! ...I don’t know.” he settled on saying, just after he remembered that someone can’t see you shrug over the phone.

Rachel only sighed. “I suppose I should just arrive.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“...Okay.”

The demon huffed, turning over to lay on his back again. His gaze fixed itself to look at the ceiling once more. “Hey. Good luck with Silvia,” Alastor finally said.

“Good luck with Joe.”

And then Alastor was left in silence again. 

His legs hug off his bed, swaying from side to side. It was a mindless action as he debated his next move. There wasn’t much left for him to do besides wait, yes? He shifted a bit to center himself upon his bed, letting his arms and legs spread out around him. He stretched them taut, arching his back and humming. Admittedly, the soft bedding that surrounded him was really appealing, but he thought it to be more appropriate to go sit back down in the living room.

Besides, Hrothgar’s council was trying to figure out how to protect their men from Grendel. Alastor wanted to see how that played out.

He plucked his phone up off the bed and got to his feet with a rocking motion. He didn’t care for much else after that, he shut his bedroom door behind him quietly and jumped over the couch’s backrest to position himself. His phone was tossed on the coffee table beside him and his book was opened back up in front of him.

Alastor spent the rest of his alone time reading quietly in waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually gotta say that it's kinda difficult for me to write Alastor. Overall? Absolutely adore the guy, but it's difficult to balance edgy demon with clueless dork. Though, it does become easier when you realize that all that edge is just a front. He loosens up around loved ones.

**Author's Note:**

> Leaving kudos or comments or anything really just makes my day! I'd appreciate it <3


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